Missionary Man
by Emerald S. Sparrow
Summary: With the help of the Eurythmics, Jack's past with the Church of England is revealed...


Disclaimer: I own none of the characters from Pirates of the Caribbean, or the places. I also do not own the song "Missionary Man" by the Eurythmics, and I could get out my CD and tell you who does own the lyrics, but I am listening to it right now. So just know that nothing belongs to me except Sandra. 

Author's Note: Okay, so I'm sitting there shaving my legs listening to Missionary Man and this thought just popped into my head, and so I had to do it. The words to the song are in , but I think you may have figured it out. If you haven't heard the song, download it or something, find it, and listen to it, because it's just great, and when you think of Jack and his impersonation at the same time, you crack up. Much thanks to Dylan, for being my beta reader. I hope all enjoy my little one-shot fic!!!

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Well I was born an original sinner.  
I was born from original sin.

Sandra walked down the streets, giving every person she passed an awful dirty look, except for, of course, the men who would kiss the ground she walked on. She smiled flirtatiously at them, most of them men she had had liaisons with… or some kind of scandal.

She was the daughter of a very wealthy man in England, and their family had prospered very well. Sandra wasn't the only snobby rich girl that had connections to men everywhere; there were many others, but Sandra was most known. Young boys in the streets sang songs about her viciousness, her cruelty, and her scandals.

Instead of turning men away like her ferocity was actually meant to do, it brought them to her, and although she wasn't the prettiest thing you had ever seen, there was something about her that made men drop to her feet.

Women thought the men were crazy, going after Sandra like she was the breath of life. She was lewd, crude, rude, and seemed almost mannerless. In the company of her family, however, she was extremely well brought up, appearing perfect. Her mother and father thought her perfect, as well as her elder brothers and little sisters. She was the perfect role model to her little sisters.

Yet, the reason she was so ridiculously rude was because she hardly seemed to get attention. Her father was a rich man who hardly had time for the middle child, but had time to take her brothers hunting and carry her little sisters on his shoulders. Of course, she knew at nineteen she was too old to be carried on his shoulders, but it wouldn't hurt him to show her some love.

She intentionally did many horrifying things to grab her parents' attention, but even the things she did, the pranks she pulled, never grabbed their focus and she was determined to not grow weary with it.

Sandra's mother had taught her many things, many ways to ward off evil, many ways to be proper. Her mother taught her how to live life, true enough. However, to attract attention and turn the focus on her, Sandra left those things in the back of her mind to rot in the little cage they were in. 

And if I had a dollar bill  
For all the things I've done  
There'd be a mountain of money  
Piled up to my chin...

So as she walked through the little port town of England she lived in, she glared at the women who were her competitors in getting attention, and she blew kisses at every man who crossed her path… even the elderly butcher.

Whether it was pulling a rope purposely and watching the startled face of a woman who had just become covered in wheat, or seducing the judge that lived next-door, or yelling curses at the women who looked more beautiful then she could ever hope to be, Sandra did it. And took much pleasure in doing it.

But for some reason, she felt incredibly down and extremely horrible about the things she had done, and wanted to go and confess her sins to the Father. Maybe she would feel better afterwards, and be able to go home and look into the eyes of her little sisters and be an actual role model, and teach them of the dangers of the world.

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Captain Jack Sparrow ran rather quickly off his small boat instead of strutting as usual, the beads and trinkets in his hair clanking together, making a song. His hands felt at his waist to make sure he had all of his effects, and then held onto his hat as he ran.

"Jack!" A woman wearing too much makeup called to him. She stood with one hand on her hip and one hand holding a rum bottle, and had a seductive look upon her face. She smiled at Jack and shook the rum, as if he were a dog and she were shaking a bone. "Jack, I know you want rum… and I want you!"

Jack stopped his running and looked to her, his eyes wide, his mouth open. It was Diane, the wench he had been with the last time he had been in this England port, and she had exactly everything he needed: rum and herself. How he wanted to run over to her and enjoy himself, but after taking a long look at the rum bottle he shook his head and waved.

"Sorry, Luv, maybe another time!" And with that, he took off running again, not even hearing the loud cry of Diane. 

Jack looked back to see if the guards were still chasing him. It wasn't his fault that one of their men fell into the ocean! It's not like he meant to push him off the deck… To Jack's great horror they were still chasing him and he looked straight again, hoping he could get away; there had to be something he could do.

He stopped in the middle of the port town and looked around. There was a large chapel ahead of him and he ran around to the back of it, entering through the back door. He looked around and saw a priest in the oh-so-holy clothes, humming a sacred hymn. Ever so softly, he walked over to the man, and grabbed his shoulders, and spun him around. 

"Please forgive me for what I'm abou' t' do!" Jack asked, punching the priest in the face. He let the man fall to the floor and stripped the man of his brown cloak, threw it over his head, and looked around. No one had seen him do it. He grabbed the man's wrists and dragged him into a nearby room and slammed the door.

Jack ran over to the confessions box, threw open the wooden door and sat inside, taking a huge gasp of air.

"Father Thompson, is that you? Are you alright?" Sandra questioned, trying to peer through the net-like barrier between the two people.

Jack froze and his eyes went wide. He cleared his throat and lowered his voice, trying to match it like the sound of the humming he had heard from the priest, who he supposed was Father Thompson.

"Yes, sorry, my dear… dear child," Jack corrected, coughing and then trying to maintain that same voice.

Sandra raised an eyebrow, but shook her head and looked down at her hands. 

"Father… I have sinned… repeatedly," she said hesitantly, a look of disgust on her face.

Jack raised an eyebrow and grinned. 

"Really? And what could a little strumpet like yourself possibly do wrong?" He said in a suggestive voice, his own, not the priest's that he had been trying imitate. 

Sandra's eyebrows furrowed and she once again tried to look through the net-like wood screen. She saw long hair… long hair that Father Thompson had never had, and she screamed and opened the door, climbing out of the confessions box.

Jack climbed out too, and ran right into Sandra. Sandra flew back onto the ground and Jack swaggered back, but did not fall. She looked up at him, taking in the sight of him, and smiled. 

His dark brown eyes enchanted her and his long dark hair was something she had never seen before, beads as well as other things woven throughout. She leaned back on her hands, staring up at him, and looked him up and down. 

My mother told me good  
My mother told me strong.  
She said "be true to yourself  
And you can't go wrong."  
"But there's just one thing  
That you must understand."  
"You can fool with your brother -  
But don't mess with a missionary man."

As much as he enticed her, her mother's words kept coming into her head, haunting her. She looked away from Jack's heart-warming grin, and couldn't stop hearing her mother's warning words.

Don't mess with a missionary man.  
Don't mess with a missionary man.

Jack looked down at the girl, grinning wide. She wasn't the prettiest lass he had ever seen, but she wasn't by any means ugly, and the way she was staring at him, lust in her eyes, made him want to pounce on her right then, as he had pounced on so many women.

He was Captain Jack Sparrow, after all.

Sandra looked up at him, seeing him run his eyes over her, and the smile upon her face became even bigger. She had seen men do that to her before… And she liked it. Especially with this man. He was something different. But… was he a priest? The possibility that he was, even if he didn't look the part, stayed in her head as she looked him over again. 

Well the missionary man  
He's got God on his side.  
He's got the saints and apostles  
Backin' up from behind.  
Black eyed looks from those Bible books.  
He's a man with a mission  
Got a serious mind.

She would feel incredibly bad if she enticed a priest. Who would she turn to then, for comfort? For words of advice and guidance? 

Jack moved toward her and held out his hand, helping her up. He pulled her up and jerked her closer to him, his hands resting upon her waist. 

Sandra grinned and placed her small hands on the sides of his face. She looked into his chocolate eyes and bit her lip, and slowly she placed her lips on his, closing her eyes. She tried to push the priest part into the back of her mind. If he wasn't Father Thompson, then Father Thompson would be the one she would run to for guidance. Right now she was going to have fun with this priest, and then perhaps her parents would finally take notice to her plea for attention. Besides that, this man was incredibly attractive.

When Jack's hands squeezed her bum and he began to back up into the confessions box, she became ill at ease once again. They were going to do this in the house of God?

There was a woman in the jungle  
And a monkey on a tree.  
The missionary man he was followin' me.  
He said "stop what you're doing."  
"Get down upon your knees."  
"I've got a message for you that you better believe."

Jack sat down on the little bench in the box, and pulled away from their kiss to look up into her icy blue eyes that contrasted to his dark brown ones. 

"What's your name?" Sandra took this moment to ask. 

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, at your service, Luv." Jack grinned his infamous grin and held her tighter to him.

Sandra's mouth hung open. "You… Captain? As in… captain of a ship?" she asked with wide eyes, the hands that were running through his hair stopping and resting against his head.

Jack nodded. "And what would your lovely name be?" He asked, squeezing her waist.

Sandra grinned and bit her lip, a habit that had been with her since childhood. 

"My name is Sandra… Sandra Johnson." Her hands that were tangled in his hair resumed course, and stopped on the beads to play with them.

"Nice to…" Jack began, and kissed her, "… Meet you."

Right when Sandra was beginning to remove the oh-so-holy robe Jack had taken from the priest, the door opened, and when Sandra and Jack looked to who had been so rude as to interrupt them, they found Sandra's father and Father Thompson.

Sandra groaned and slapped Jack's shoulders, and crawled out of the box.

"Sandra! What were you thinking of?!" her father began yelling at her.

Father Thompson looked from Jack to Sandra, and when he looked back to see about Jack, he was gone.

A burst of light came into the dimmed chapel and Sandra, her father, and Father Thompson looked to the chapel back door. 

Don't mess with a missionary man.  
Don't mess with a missionary man.

"Goodbye, Luv! You're a surprisin'ly good kisser!" Jack called out, and then ran out the door, slamming it behind him.

Sandra looked to her father and the priest. 

"Somehow I have a feeling he was not a saint like you are, Father Thompson," Sandra said and looked from the priest to her father innocently. 

Now that she had the attention, she didn't want it. What she wanted was Captain Jack Sparrow's lips on hers once again. 

That would teach her to mess with a missionary man.

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Let me know what you thought! :D


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